Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Georgia and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Kaleidoscope to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
The Modern Lovers,
John Coltrane,
Funkadelic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Inner City,
The Sonics,
Subhumans,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roxette,
The Divine Comedy,
Kas Product,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Techniques,
K-Klass,
Rufus Thomas,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sällskapet,
The Count Five,
Severed Heads,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Invisible,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
Steve Hackett,
Nirvana,
The Mummies,
Babytalk,
Pantaleimon,
the Slits,
Infiniti,
Max Romeo,
Accadde A,
Thompson Twins,
Lakeside,
Khruangbin,
KRS-One,
Girls At Our Best!,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Ossler,
The Toasters,
The Blues Magoos,
Slick Rick,
Livin' Joy,
Rod Modell,
Letta Mbulu,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Durutti Column,
Rakim,
Make Up,
Au Pairs,
Marine Girls,
L. Decosne,
Ituana,
The Music Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Nils Olav,
EPMD,
Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead, Radiohead.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.